We need spring. We need it desperately, and, usually, we need it before God is willing to give it to us.
Just now the lilac is in bloom All before my little room.
This work somehow awakened my dormant powers of will and I began to practice self-control. At first my resolutions faded like snow in April, but in a little while I conquered my weakness and felt a pleasure I never knew before - that of doing as I willed.
Early in April, as I was vigorously hoeing in a corner, I unearthed a huge toad, to my perfect delight and satisfaction; he had lived all winter, he had doubtless fed on slugs all the autumn. I could have kissed him on the spot.
On Sunday 8 April 1945, he had just finished conducting a service of worship at Schoenberg, when two soldiers came took him away. As he left, he said to another prisoner, This is the end - but for me, the beginning - of life. He was hanged the next day, less than a week before the Allies reached the camp.
"I call them april babies cause they fools"
Science has never drummed up quite as effective a tranquilizing agent as a sunny spring day.
Three things a wise man will not trust, The wind, the sunshine of an April day, And woman's plighted faith.
The influence of the Gang of Four should not be underrated, but it should be noted that 97 or 98 per cent of the population hate them intensely for their crimes. This was shown by the mass movement against the Gang of Four which erupted at Tiananmen Square on April 5, 1976, when the Gang were still riding high, Chairman Mao was critically ill and Premier Zhou had passed away.
Triumphant hours are the Lark's Who circles skywards from his home each day: World's early riser, with bubbling golden song, Towards the firmament, guardian of April's gate.
When the clouds shake their hyssops, and the rain Like holy water falls upon the plain, 'Tis sweet to gaze upon the springing grain And see your harvest born. And sweet the little breeze of melody The blackbord puffs upon the budding tree, While the wild poppy lights upon the lea And blazes 'mid the corn.
I give him (Frank Howard during April 28, 1968 two-hitter) shoulder, back, foot and the ball last," and Frank Howard commented, "He threw everything at me but the ball.
We've got some guys going good and we've got some guys who are struggling. Usually April's a tough month. Guys come from Arizona where the weather's perfect and the ball flies all over the place. Then you get into the reality of the season, and it can work against them, not so much physically as mentally.
January cold and desolate; February dripping wet; March wind ranges; April changes; Birds sing in tune To flowers of May, And sunny June Brings longest day; In scorched July The storm-clouds fly, Lightning-torn; August bears corn, September fruit; In rough October Earth must disrobe her; Stars fall and shoot In keen November; And night is long And cold is strong In bleak December.
Bare twigs in April enhance our pleasure; We know the good time is yet to come.... Bare twigs in Autumn are signs for sadness; We feel the good time is well-nigh past.
To reporters the day after his accession to the presidency, April 13, 1945: When they told me yesterday what had happened, I felt like the moon, the stars and all the planets had fallen on me.
'Tis spring; come out to ramble The hilly brakes around, For under thorn and bramble About the hollow ground The primroses are found. And there's the windflower chilly With all the winds at play, And there's the Lenten lily That has not long to stay And dies on Easter day.
It is the sweetest spring within the memory of man. So green, so mild, so beautiful! Ah, what a contrast between nature without and my own soul so torn with doubt and terror!
In whatever position you find yourself, determine first your objective.
Why should I deem myself to be a chisel, when I could be the artist?
Gratitude never radicalized anybody. I don't care if they recognize the past, I just want them to get angry about the present and keep going.
On the approach of spring, I withdraw without reluctance from the noisy and extensive scene of crowds without company, and dissipation without pleasure.
We must create our own world.
Spring makes everything look filthy.
So Spring comes merry towards me here, but earns No answering smile from me, whose life is twin'd With the dead boughs that winter still must bind, And whom today the Spring no more concerns. Behold, this crocus is a withering flame; This snowdrop, snow; this apple-blossom's part To breed the fruit that breeds the serpent's art. Nay, for these Spring-flowers, turn thy face from them, Nor stay till on the year's last lily-stem The white cup shrivels round the golden heart.
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